


find a place for me

by sevensevan



Series: pride month 2018 [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: Natasha never invites Wanda to her apartment. Wanda asks why.





	find a place for me

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil thing with Feelings because i have Feelings about natasha and her issues. enjoy.

“Natasha?” Wanda murmurs. Natasha hums quietly in response, burrowing closer to Wanda’s back and tracing circles on her stomach with her fingertips. “Why don’t we ever go to your apartment?” Natasha’s hand stills, and Wanda can feel her tensing against her back. Wanda rolls over, propping her head up on one hand. Natasha shifts onto her back, still close enough to Wanda that her arm is pressed against Wanda’s front, but she stares up at the ceiling instead of meeting Wanda’s gaze.

“Do you want to?” she asks. Wanda considers the question for a moment, running the fingertips of her free hand over Natasha’s arm absently.

“I do not care where we are, as long as you are there,” she answers. Natasha smiles at that, her real smile, the one Wanda rarely sees outside of moments like these. Natasha does not hide the way she used to, but there is always a sort of barrier between herself and what she presents to the world, a barrier that only falls when she’s alone with Wanda. It’s a privilege, Wanda thinks, for her to see Natasha’s true self like this, when so few ever have.

“That’s sweet,” Natasha murmurs. “But not much of an answer.”

“That doesn’t make it not true,” Wanda says. Natasha lifts her head up, closing the scant few inches between them and kissing Wanda lightly. Wanda sighs contentedly when she pulls away, setting her head back down on the pillow and wrapping herself around Natasha’s side. “It’s not that important,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the side of Natasha’s head. “I just thought it might be more comfortable. And…private.” Natasha sighs, catching one of Wanda’s hands in hers and lacing their fingers together.

“Honest moment?” she says quietly. “I’ve never had anyone over at my apartment before.” Wanda opens her eyes, lifting her head and frowning down at her girlfriend.

“What?” she asks. “Never?” Natasha shakes her head.

“I don’t…” she doesn’t finish the thought, furrowing her brow, as if searching for the right words. “It’s my space,” she says eventually. “I never had my own things before. It’s stupid, but I—“

“It is not stupid,” Wanda interrupts. “Your feelings are never stupid.” Natasha smiles at her again, and it gives Wanda butterflies, as it invariably does.

“I didn’t want anyone there,” she continues. “It’s _mine_. _I_ get to decide what’s for dinner and when I wash the dishes and whether or not I pick up my clothes off the bedroom floor the next morning or three months later. I didn’t want anyone there.” Wanda kisses Natasha’s cheek.

“Okay,” she says. “Then we will not go there.”

“I’m not done,” Natasha says, poking Wanda in the stomach playfully. “Let me finish, little witch.” Wanda smiles at the nickname, batting at Natasha’s hand before curling closer to her. “I didn’t want anyone there,” Natasha repeats. “But you aren’t just anyone. And I think I’d like for you to be there. If you want.”

“Really?” Wanda asks quietly.

“Really.” Natasha kisses Wanda’s forehead. “Come by next Friday? I’ll cook dinner.” Wanda snorts, amused.

“ _You’ll_ cook dinner,” she repeats. Natasha huffs, mock-offended.

“I’ll order takeout from that Indian place you like?” she amends. Wanda grins, sliding on top of Natasha and kissing her.

“Sounds good,” she says between kisses that are rapidly growing in intensity. “Can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” Natasha mumbles, slipping her hands into Wanda’s hair and running her fingernails over Wanda’s scalp. Wanda gasps at the sensation, pressing Natasha into the mattress and slipping a hand under her tank top.

Wanda is pretty sure she has never, ever been this happy before.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm writing a fic a day for pride month, and i'm taking any and all lgbtq prompts through the end of june. leave a comment or send me an ask on tumblr @daisys-quake. leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


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